


Huge Gods

by Beth H (bethbethbeth)



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Huge
Genre: Gen, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethbethbeth/pseuds/Beth%20H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Brutha and Vorbis go on a journey, and Om makes plans.  A post-canon(s) interlude, featuring a little meta, a little metaphysics, and a little omnipresence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Huge Gods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boosette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boosette/gifts).



> Note: the multiverse contains all possibilities and all worlds, including, apparently, both the Disc-shaped world created by Terry Pratchett and the slightly rounder world of _Huge_.

**From:** Alistair  
<athena_the_cat_boy@gmail.com>  
 **To:** Becca  
<goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com>  
 **Subject:** Home again, home again.

...and of course, now that we're back, Chloe's done nothing but pine over Trent, but at least she's still talking to me.

But anyway, _your_ news is exciting. Do you think you'll actually find the wizard's amulet this time?

I wish I went to your school.

A.

\- Hide quoted text -

On Sat, Sept 4 at 3:15 PM, Becca <goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com> wrote:

> "...plus, there are three new boys at school who LARP. Or at least they know what  
> it is. They're more into WoW, but they said they'd be willing to LARP next weekend.  
>

* * *

 **From:** Becca  
<goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com>  
 **To:** Alistair  
<athena_the_cat_boy@gmail.com>  
 **Subject:** Home again, home again.

It's not the one we played at Camp Victory; it's a new LARP, based on Terry Pratchett's Discworld. Have you read _Small Gods_? The universe uses elements of _Small Gods_ and combines them with our world. No cats unfortunately, but I still think you'd like it!

(I wish you went to my school too)

-Becca

\- Hide quoted text -

On Sat, Sept 4 at 4:01 PM, Alistair <athena_the_cat_boy@gmail.com> wrote:

> Maybe you'll actually find the wizard's amulet this time?  
>

* * *

 **From:** Alistair  
<athena_the_cat_boy@gmail.com>  
 **To:** Becca  
<goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com>  
 **Subject:** Home again, home again.

I love _Small Gods_!

You've combined Discworld with _this_ world? Let me guess: the game is set at Camp Victory, except it's run by the god Nuggan, and he's already decreed that Chocolate is an Abomination, and Cheese and Mushrooms are too, so that's it for pizza, and then Om takes over from Nuggan as Camp Director, and he makes a rule that we're only allowed to eat melons and lettuce?

A.

\- Hide quoted text -

On Sat, Sept 4 at 5:12 PM, Becca <goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com> wrote:

> it's a new LARP, based on Terry Pratchett's Discworld. Have you read _Small Gods_?  
>

* * *

 **From:** Becca  
<goddess_of_the_sacred_grove@gmail.com>  
 **To:** Alistair  
<athena_the_cat_boy@gmail.com>  
 **Subject:** Home again, home again.

Has anybody ever told you that you're really, really strange? :D

And no, it's not set in Camp Victory. It actually begins in a desert...,

* * *

Deep in the desert, the Great God Om dreamed.

***

The journey across the shifting black sands was long, and the chill of that very first starlit night crept into Brutha's century-old bones, making them ache and creak, but as the night turned into day, and day into night, the trek grew far less arduous and far more familiar, until both Brutha and Brutha's century old bones felt just as they had in that long ago, well remembered time when the world - Brutha's world, at least - was far younger than it was today.

Whether the same could be said for Brutha's traveling companion ( _the murderer, the creator of murderers, the torturer, the callous, the passionless, the compassionless_ ) was impossible to tell.

Vorbis seemed to draw some small comfort from Brutha's presence (or so Brutha told himself) and some warmth from Brutha's body on the coldest of the cold dark nights, but he never spoke, he never smiled, and he never wept. Neither did he hunger nor thirst, but Brutha knew that both he and Vorbis had already traveled far beyond the world of hunger and thirst (why Brutha had discovered a container of water nestled safely amongst his possessions was something he had decided not to question.) There was never the slightest indication, as far as Brutha could tell, that Vorbis knew exactly where he was or to whose side he cleaved so tenaciously through the days and nights of this second shared desert sojourn.

And then, on the seventh day of the thirteenth week (or the fifth day of the fourth week, the passage of time being quite difficult to pin down, here in the black sanded desert), Vorbis finally spoke.

Or perhaps it was more accurate to say he yelped, and _then_ he spoke.

"Who are you?" Vorbis asked, and Brutha replied with his name, but when Vorbis _next_ spoke, kneeling in the sand, his head bowed, it was clear that it was not Brutha to whom he had responded.

For a moment, Brutha feared that Vorbis might have gone entirely mad, for surely only the mad speak to beings which only they can see or hear. And then Brutha laughed out loud, for hadn't almost his entire life been spent in solitary communion - silent and otherwise - with the Great God Om?

"It took you long enough."

"Om?" Brutha said. "Is it you?"

"Were you expecting somebody else? Nuggan perhaps?"

Brutha frowned. "No, of course not, but...do you think you might manifest yourself? Just a little? I'm afraid I can't see you."

"That's because you're looking for a tortoise," said Om. "Your friend here, the deacon, _he_ sees me. Look where he's looking."

Brutha did.

"A...scorpion?" he asked. "Why a scorpion."

"I work in mysterious ways. Also, I wanted to get his attention," said Om smugly, or as smugly as it's possible for a scorpion who's not actually speaking aloud to sound.

Brutha looked over at Vorbis, who was grimacing and rubbing his very red, very swollen right heel. "Well, yes...you definitely seem to have got his attention.

Om nodded - or rather, he waved his stinger, which amounted to the same thing. "Vorbis now believes in me, although to the extent to which he believes _anything_ , he now believes that God is pain. By the time he reaches the end of his trek across the desert, perhaps you'll be able to enlighten him that the truth is...otherwise."

"I'll try."

"Well then, that's that. And now I'll be off."

"So," Brutha said, as he poured some fresh water on a clean cloth, then wrapped it gently around Vorbis's heel. "You just stopped by in the middle of the desert to say hello then, did you?"

"I stopped by," said Om, watching Brutha attend to Vorbis, "to remind myself that I will wish to speak to my most-loved Cenobiarch - and yes, that's you by the way - when I finally reach the Temple gardens for the first time."

Brutha frowned. "Perhaps my memory isn't what it used to be when I still lived, but I'm almost entirely certain that you first entered the gardens over a hundred years ago."

"Yes," said Om, "but I live in all times - past, present, and future - and when the past arrives and we finally meet, I believe we shall need to speak. I shall also be a tortoise," Om added," but then...you knew that already, didn't you?"

Brutha watched as his god - currently in the body of a scorpion - burrowed beneath the black desert sands and disappeared from view.

"I have spoken to Om," said Vorbis slowly, his voice rusty from a century or more of disuse.

"Yes," Brutha said. "You have, Deacon Vorbis."

"I have a confession to make, Cenobiarch," Vorbis whispered. "I don't think I ever believed in Him before this moment."

"I think that belief comes at its own pace," Brutha said. "Sometimes it comes swift and sharp, like the sting of a scorpion, and sometimes slow and steady."

"Like a tortoise?" asked Vorbis hopefully.

"Like a tortoise," Brutha said to his companion. "Come, let's continue our journey."

***

Deep in the desert, the Great God Om dreamed, while high above, an eagle circled.


End file.
